


Protect

by FantasyRyder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comforting Sam Winchester, Guilty Sam Winchester, Healing, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, removing stitches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-04-19 09:55:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14234754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasyRyder/pseuds/FantasyRyder
Summary: Directly after the events of "The Thing", this is a hurt/comfort Sabriel fic, so you'll get what you expect.





	Protect

**Author's Note:**

> This is my mode of therapy after last nights episode. Please comment.

Sam stood, almost in shock, as Dean's sudden absence hit him with a combination of stress and other less satisfactory emotions. Now he was alone in the presence of a being he never considered the possibility of being alive again. His shock now evolved into hysteria, as he laughed breathily and recollected Lucifer telling him his little brother was dead, Chuck insisting he didn't have the time to bring him back, and only a day or so ago, he himself coming to terms and admitting that their presence in Scooby Doo had absolutely no connection to the seemingly dead, almost friend, trickster angel, whatsoever. But yet, only minutes earlier, a desperate Ketch dragged out and offered the old face in hopes of protection abruptly.

Finally, he turned, taking in the angel's fidgeting form as he looked literally anywhere except towards the other individual in the room.

When Sam first saw his form, he didn't even register it as being Gabriel's. Gabe had always been in a state of almost complete control, and when the "almost" came in, he had a plan to get out of it in some way, now it seems the control was stripped from him long ago. His usually clean and kept facade was now shattered and untraceable. For that reason, instead of resembling the trickster Sam knew best, he looked and continued to look like a beaten dog.

As he snipped the first few stitches holding his mouth closed only minutes before, he expected some kind of mumble, even wanted a snarky comment (though he'd never admit that,) something like: "Ha, fooled-ja! See? I'm fine!", but no, the cut thread hangs limply from his unmoving lips.

Sam looks down as he thinks, but doesn't give himself the time he needs to gather himself after everything that happened in only ten minutes or so. All at once, his thick jacket is strewn on top of the table in the main room, and he's retrieving the first aid kit in the bathroom, trusting Gabriel to not run away, and deciding to ignore how he shrunk away from him when he strode by in his quest.

Once everything was gathered, he resumed his position in the chair facing Gabriel. Next to him on the table was a rag, a bowl of warm water, alcohol, and the multiple other things that were in the first aid kit. Sam tilted his head, attempting to meet Gabriel's eyes.

"Hey..." Sam was calculating in his tone, every inflection smooth and tone sickeningly soothing, yet the slight suddenness of the word made the angel flinch.

"I need to get the rest of these out so we can talk. Can you deal with that?" Sam's eyes were trained on Gabriel's features, attempting to make some kind of connection and succeeding when he looks back into Sam's eyes. Sam smiled in response, eyes soft and dimples flashing with relief. "I'll take that as a yes... Just breath alright?"

Sam once again began cutting those awful stitches, the concern he felt for Gabriel melting and boiling into rage directed to Asmodeus, unable to imagine what he could have done to break Gabriel and throw him this far away from repair. Gabe's wide, golden eyes only added strength to the catalyst. At first, they were darting, but now look up to Sam. Up to him, of all things.

Gabriel chose a short vessel, he was more human than any angel Sam had had the displeasure of meeting (aside from Castiel) but never had Gabriel looked at Sam with those eyes. The Winchesters had somehow always been looked down on by Gabriel, either maliciously after he killed Dean on that Tuesday and Wednesday, or out of concern when they discovered that Gabriel was an angel and before he sacrificed himself. But now, those orbs were trained up to Sam's own, unwavering, desperate, fearful, relieved, beautiful, and submissive. He needed Sam and that made the tallest Winchester boy's heart clench with the need to protect. So, as he pulled the remaining stitches from the now unflinching archangel's lips, he decided Asmodeus was going to face a slow death.

Gabe seemed to realize the helpless puppy eyes he'd been directing Sam's way for the three minutes his lips were treated, and looked away, eyes now trained and flickering across the floor of the bunker.

"Can you talk to me now?" Sam asked with softened hazel eyes, catching the few glances Gabe directed his way and relieved as he allows him to wipe his mouth with an alcohol and water solution, only flinching and hissing slightly at the pain.

Sam almost let himself be relieved when he found Gabriel's flinching was slowing down but realized he'd been shaking ever since he was revealed. He contemplated for a moment, and with slow movements, took his discarded jacket and draped it over Gabe's form, shushing at the full body flinch and slight sound of dismissal released in the back of his throat. At that, he released the jacket and raised his hands slightly, showing he'll no longer touch him and smiling as his tense form visibly melted into the warmth of the coat he was now draped in.

Sam searched for his words. "Asmodeus," He spoke, choosing not to address Gabriel's state of stiffness at the mention of the prince of Hell, "he's screwed. I swear." Fatigue now dawned the angel's features, like he doesn't believe Sam, but his fists tighten in the material of Sam's coat. "I'll kill him myself if I have to," Sam gritted out, an unapologetic darkness filling his aura and blocking out the brightness of the promise of protection he dawned only moments before.

"So... Any objections?"

His only response was a glace up, yet his eyes were now somber and possibly deadly if you were to stretch.

"First things first, we need to get you cleaned up, healed," Sam stood and pulled out his phone, dialing Castiel's number, "fed, and stronger," and placed it to his ear, "Cass."


End file.
